


True Blue

by punkrockpoetlaureate



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5029249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkrockpoetlaureate/pseuds/punkrockpoetlaureate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl's got a headache and he just wants to feel better. Then eventually Rick comes along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Blue

Daryl never got headaches. He never got sick at all, and he made it a point to never take medicine. So it didn't make sense to him when one afternoon he had a splitting headache that he couldn't shake. He tried hard to ignore it, to just will it away and pretend it wasn’t happening. The pain finally got so intense that he was having to squint in the glare of the sun to see, and everyone was starting to notice. 

"Get out of the sun," Carol told him, after she’d gently put a hand to his forehead to see if he was fevered. "Go lay down in your cell, shut your eyes, and sleep it off. That's all you need to do."

He grumbled at her and didn't listen, continuing the work he was doing, until finally he stalked off without saying anything, causing everyone to stare. It was cooler in his cell, and with the curtains closed it was dark. He’d hoped it would let up once he was out of the light, but his vision still blurred just slightly around the edges, and his head throbbed painfully. 

He got into bed and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep. He pulled his pillow up over his head, trying as hard as he could to block out the light and noise. It didn't work and his head didn't let up; eventually he managed to get himself up and hobble in to get some water, and then headed over to the medical supplies for a bottle of Tylenol or something. 

Things were all organized so that Hershel could keep track of how much they had left, but there was a basket filled with a handful of over the counter drugs. Ibuprofen and cold medicine and things like that, and he picked out one that just had two in it and tossed them both back, swallowing some water. He fell into bed again and pulled the pillow up over his face and finally fell asleep. 

"Fuck," he mumbled. He didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping, but when he woke up, his headache was gone. He still felt burning hot, the sheets soaked were with sweat. His headache was gone, his mind no longer clouded over with pain, but instead, swimming with arousal, and his dick was so hard that it was actually painful in his pants. He realized after a few seconds that he'd woken himself up thrusting against the thin mattress of his bed and if he didn’t get his jeans off in a few seconds, he was going to come in his pants.

He swore quietly. There was no light peaking around his curtains, but just because it was night didn't mean that there wasn't anyone awake. No one slept in the cell next to his, which eased his mind a little bit, but there was always someone meandering around keeping an eye out at night, so he couldn't stir around too much. 

He undid his pants, forcing himself to take his time dragging the zipper down so that there was no chance that anyone could hear. He sighed when he pulled his cock out, the air on his overheated skin not nearly as soothing as he’d hoped it’d be. He closed his fist around the base, already sure that this wasn’t going to take long. 

Daryl bit back a moan, gritting his teeth to try and keep all of the noises he wanted to make at bay. This had happened to him before. It was hard to find time alone where he could relax like this and take care of himself. Every so often he’d wake up late at night, needing a release. It had never been quite this intense before, though. 

His grip loosened slightly, easing his fist up slowly, humming in contentment at the feeling. He was unable to hold himself back anymore, hand moving rapidly up and down his cock, coming hard about ten seconds later. He’d never gotten off that fast before, and he wondered how long he'd been dry humping the bed before he woke up. 

He cleaned himself up a little and lay back on the bed, one hand under his head, jeans still open, the night air cooling his skin. He shifted, uncomfortable with the way his shirt clung to his back where he’d sweat so much. There was no way he’d be able to sleep while he was still so hot, and when his mind wandered to why he’d been so turned on when he woke up, he felt himself getting hard again. 

"What the fuck?" He groaned quietly. He’d never had this happen before; usually when he got off, he could easily go back to sleep and not worry about it anymore.

He shut his eyes tight, thinking that maybe he'd finally reached that point and his hand was no longer enough. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been fucked; so long that he didn't even let himself imagine it when he did get off, because it only made him want it more.

He had lube in his pack that he used sparingly sometimes. He could finger himself; he'd done it before. But it was never fucking enough. The more he tried to ignore his needs, the more overwhelming it became. He growled once in frustration before giving up and wrapping his hand around his dick once more.

The curtain hanging over his door fluttered slightly, and then parted open, and Daryl flung a blanket over his lap. "What the fuck?"

"Carol told me you weren't feeling well earlier, and I heard you moving around. I wanted to see if you needed anything."

Rick. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about, with his kids, and the safety of the prison, he had to try and keep tabs on everyone and make sure they were okay.

“Fine,” he bit out sullenly. 

"You sure?” Rick asked, not sounding convinced. “Because I heard you...moaning. If you're sick you should tell me. I can help.” 

"I'm not sick." Despite the embarrassing situation of Rick walking in on him touching himself, even considering fingering himself, he was still just as hard as he’d been before. He could feel himself leaking precome against the thin blanket he’d used to cover himself with. 

He knew Rick rarely took no for an answer, but he still couldn’t quite believe when he moved right to the edge of the bed. He leaned down. "Daryl...." Rick's hand on the mattress pulled the blanket he'd slung across himself and it moved against him, even the light touch of it causing him to moan before he could stop himself. "Daryl, see, if you're not feeling well—"

"I ain't sick. I’m fine.” 

"Well, then what is it? ‘Cause something must be wrong if you went inside to go to sleep when it was still light out. And I know I heard you. Didn’t sound like you’re fine to me. Don’t be stubborn about it.” 

Daryl rolled his eyes, cornered and pissed that Rick wouldn’t just back off. When it was clear that Rick didn’t plan on moving, and he had no other idea of what to do, he pulled the blanket off.

"What the fuck, Daryl?" Rick whispered harshly, turning away slightly and averting his eyes. 

"Well, if you're too dumb to take the hint of what I was doing, figure I had to spell it out for you." Rick was close and Daryl was still so fucking hard he could feel his dick pulsing.  
“Now, get out.” 

Rick sat still, almost like he hadn't heard what Daryl had just said. "Shit, you hard of hearing tonight or what?" He asked, wrapping his hand around his dick anyway.

"Daryl," Rick protested weakly.

This really wasn't like him. He'd never touched himself in front of anyone before. He really was desperate, and he really couldn’t help himself anymore. Having Rick there, watching him, should have been humiliating. To have someone see him so needy and vulnerable wasn't usually something he allowed. But this was thrilling in some way, exciting and new and something he wanted. He growled softly.

“You can go if you want to. But I think if you were really all that uncomfortable, you’d’ve been outta here by now.” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Rick answered finally. 

Daryl looked at him. “Does that mean you’re gonna stay?” 

He seemed to settle more firmly on the bed, finally looking at Daryl, scanning down his body, and his eyes fixing on Daryl’s hand still moving on his dick.

Rick's hand moved, hovering in between them, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch. He paused, and Daryl nearly reached out to grab him and pull him closer, to wrap his hand around him. His cock was pulsing hard in his hand, and he knew he wouldn’t need much to get off again. 

"Just do it," he told Rick. 

Rick caught his eye and the baffled look on his face faded away and he set his jaw, looking determined and reached forward without another though, wrapping his hand around Daryl's cock.

"Fuck," his voice caught on a moan. He'd never seen Rick back down from a challenge before; somehow this still shocked him. He couldn't deny that he'd never imagined this before, but he'd never let himself think that it might actually happen.

Rick moved closer, looking a little more at ease after seeing Daryl respond to his touch.

"So, were you lying about being sick, just to get out of work? Is this what you've been doing since you came in here?"

There was a teasing tone to his voice, but Daryl still felt guilty. "No. Had a headache I couldn't shake. I took some pills for it and went to sleep. Woke up like this a little while ago. Couldn't help myself."

Rick's hand sped up and Daryl's hips bucked up into his firm grip.

"This happen to you often?"

"Not like this."

Rick was eyeing him curiously. "So, has it been a while, then?"

Daryl didn't answer at first; he let his eyes close so that he could focus on the feeling of Rick's calloused palm against his cock.

"No," he responded finally.

The movements stopped and Rick's eyes seemed to darken. "Really? When?"

"Just before you came in," he admitted finally.

He sat back a little, a smirk. "Really?" He asked again.

"I told you," he gritted out. "This's never happened to me before. Don't know what's going on."

The smirk on Rick's face faded slightly. "Do you think something's wrong? I mean if you said it's never happened before and you weren't feeling right earlier...."

"So, what, I've got some kinda disease that gives me headaches and then I need to get off a bunch of times?"

Rick gave a small laugh and Daryl couldn't stay annoyed when it was such an uncommon sound to hear.

"Just don't really know what would do this. If you're feeling alright now, though, guess it can't be something too bad...right?"

Daryl didn't really give a fuck what was wrong with him if it meant that he could have Rick touching him like this.

"Right."

Rick resumed his motions, wrapping his hand around Daryl's cock.

"Did it take long? Before?"

"No. I was pretty close when I woke up."

He noticed Rick's hips shift at that, and he palmed his own cock through his jeans. Daryl's arousal spiked at that, seeing Rick as affected as he was. He hadn't though much past his own feelings.

"Rick, I'm—"

"Fuck," he whispered. "Are you gonna come again already?"

"Jesus, just...." The feeling overwhelmed him and he couldn't even finish what he was saying before he was coming again, streaking onto the shirt he still wore.

Rick let him catch his breath. "So...better?"

He was sure he would've been. When Rick had come in and he'd gotten it in his mind that if he could get Rick to touch him, he thought that was all he'd need, he was sure he'd come once more, and feel better and be able to fall back asleep. He'd guessed he would deal with the changes to his and Rick's relationship at some point. He'd been prepared for it to be awkward afterward. He hadn't counted on still not being the slightest bit affected by the fact that he'd come twice in a short amount of time.

"Guess not," Rick commented softly after a few seconds when his cock didn't show any signs of softening. "I think I know something that might help."

He stood up, quickly shedding his clothes and joining Daryl on the bed again. He didn't even have a chance to be nervous, the heat of his cock throbbing was too distracting, and he spread his legs so that Rick could situate himself in between them.

"You got lube?"

He gave a short nod before reaching under his bed, rifling around for the bag he kept it hidden in. He passed it to Rick.

"You're sure about this?" He asked roughly. He'd seemed pretty uncertain when he'd first joined Daryl.

"I think we both need it," Rick answered. "As long as you're sure."

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, trying not to seem too excited. "Fuck yeah."

Rick wasn’t at all nervous anymore as he uncapped the lube and spread some on his fingers and reached slowly between Daryl’s legs, trailing gently over his cock and balls before dipping down lower and pressing a finger to his hole. 

“Fuck,” Daryl sighed. This was everything he’d been trying to tell himself that he didn’t need for months now. He’d pushed it out of his mind and avoided thinking about it, telling himself that it would go away if he didn’t let himself dwell on it. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Rick was the one doing this. That whatever weird problem he was having to make him have a permanent hard on was about to be solved by the guy that he’d never even let himself consider. 

Daryl had no idea how Rick knew what he was doing, and as much as he wanted to ask, all he could do was bite the side of his hand to keep his moans muffled. Rick eased inside of him, carefully and slowly at first, gradually working his way up to a second finger and then a third. He didn’t make Daryl wait; he balanced his weight on his forearms, overtop of Daryl as he slid his cock into him. 

“Daryl,” Rick moaned lowly. “Fuck, you feel good.” 

He couldn’t respond, too overwhelmed at the feeling of Rick’s cock filling him. He started moving in short strokes, until Daryl thrust back against him, urging him to move faster. 

They mumbled moans against each other’s skin, and quietly spoke each other’s names, until Daryl came again, never having touched his cock. Rick bit back a groan as he felt  
Daryl come around his cock, not lasting much longer before Daryl could feel him pulsing inside of him. 

“Jesus.” 

“Yeah.” 

“So…do you think that took care of the problem?” 

“I wasn’t really gonna call it a problem after that,” Daryl mumbled, feeling sleepy. 

Rick laughed. “Yeah.” He looked between their bodies. “You’re still hard.” 

“Yeah, but I’m too tired to do anything else tonight.” 

“Okay. You let me know if you ever need any help with that particular problem again, though.” 

Daryl nodded slowly. “I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo...I got this idea way back in January and finally decided to finish it and show you guys. I left it a little bit ambiguous, but in case you never guessed, Daryl accidentally took some Viagra that was hiding in a Tylenol bottle and that was why he just couldn't seem to stop getting hard. Thank god Rick came and helped him. There was a good chance it took a little bit longer for him to stop being hard, but I think he was just tired. I have no real knowledge of how Viagra would affect someone who didn't need it, I just imagine that it would give you a raging boner for a few hours, so how better to use that than with Rick? I hope you guys enjoyed the story!


End file.
